Kaelen did not remember sitting down.
One moment he was standing near the sink. The next, he was on the bathroom floor with his back against the cabinet and blood dripping from his fingertips.
He stared at his hand.
His knuckles were split open, then he looked around him.
Ah, right.
The mirror.
Fragments of glass glittered across the tiles.
[That was dramatic.]
Kaelen looked up slowly. His reflection still remained in the cracked pieces. Blue eye, gold eye. Smiling, one shard showed him laughing. Another showed him crying.
Kaelen looked away.
His pulse hammered unevenly against his ribs. He pressed two fingers against his throat automatically and counted.
One hundred thirty-seven.
Better than yesterday.
[Your standards are fascinating.]
The voice sounded close, closer than usual, like someone leaning against his shoulder.
[Most people become concerned when their heart starts behaving like it was failing.]
